Beautiful Lies
by DeathInAPrettyPinkDress
Summary: When Violet traveled to Small Heath to see her childhood friend, she thought the only thing that had changed about him was his name. She soon learns that isn't the case, and struggles to recognize the boy she grew up with. MichaelxOC
1. Chapter 1

_Beautiful lies  
Cover my eyes with your hands  
Just pretend we're better  
Turn out the light  
There are no more surprises to come  
Let's be numb together  
-Beautiful Lies, Birdy_

 _Chapter One_

 _1921_

Violet Palmer was perfectly content in her little town. It was so quiet and calm and beautiful. She would have been happy to spend the rest of her life here. To get married and have quite a few children. It had always been her idea since she was a child. When she was little, she would have pretend wedding, with her dolls and stuffed animals as guests, and when she would zone out in class she would scribble names for her future children. She was happy to be a housewife, and greet her husband with a warm meal. It would be just as it was for her mother, who always looked at her father with such adoration, and her father always looking at her mother the same way.

It all seemed so dreamy and romantic. But, of course, that, the quiet comfort of the countryside, was the only sort of life Violet had ever known. She had never traveled, never had any desire to, never had any need to. Her parents granted her quite a bit of freedom, and for someone who had that, she was so sheltered. To her, the world never went beyond the picturesque little village she called home. It was a simplistic life of routine, and one Violet was glad to continue throughout her entire life. The idea of leaving had never occurred to her. Why would it? It was a peaceful place where everyone knew everyone, and it was safe, and perhaps that's why Violet loved it so much. She never had the need to worry about anything.

Violet's boyfriend, on the other hand, had other ideas. Violet had known Henry Johnson for years. Ever since Rosemary Johnson had adopted him. He had been her next door neighbor and she had been very eager to welcome him, wanting him to feel as at home as she felt. Violet was only five at the time. That was just the sort of person Violet was. She was always eager to make people feel at home. She always tried to be a great hostess, like her mother was. It was one of the traits of a good housewife, after all. But, despite her good friendship with Henry, she always knew that he wasn't comfortable in the village. It was always too small for him. And no matter how hard Violet tried, she just could never make it so that Henry was comfortable in the village. She tried, though, she tried her hardest. But it always proved to be a futile effort. Still, it never put any sort of strain or damper on their friendship. And by the time she was fourteen and he was fifteen, the two of them were in a relationship. They would often sit and talk at the pretty white wishing well that was in the town square.

And that's exactly where Violet was now, waiting for him to show up. Her red curls were tied with a cream-colored ribbon and a her hair was resting over her right shoulder. She was dressed in a green dress with little buttons that went for the waist to the collar. She had a cloche hat that matched her dress with a cream ribbon that circled the hat, matching the one that was in her hair. Her shoes were also cream-colored. She was sitting up straight, almost trying to project an air of being older that her sixteen years. It was always something Violet did. She always seemed a little to excited to put her childhood behind her, and be seen as an adult.

Her mother always warned her about that, telling her daughter to savor her childhood and youth for as long as she could. She had warned Violet that she would not be so young forever, and that she would regret it if she didn't act like a child while she could. But after watching her elder sister, Lucy get married, that attitude only seemed to double down, and she doubled down even more when Lucy had her first child, a boy named Joseph. Violet had been thrilled to become an aunt, and even more thrilled to become godmother to the little boy, and it only made her all the more eager to grow up. But Violet had always been mature for her age. As had Henry. They had been mature in different ways, but they were mature nonetheless.

Violet was aware of what Henry's life had been like before Mrs. Johnson had adopted him, or at least she was just aware of a little of it. She knew that Henry's birth mother had turned to opium and gin and because she couldn't take care of him properly, he had been taken away, and adopted into the loving Johnson family. Violet agreed with the decision to take Henry away. Any mother who neglected their child was unworthy of having a child to begin with. Violet had always loved babies, and thought that they were just the most adorable things, and she couldn't understand how anyone could do them any harm. They were so sweet and innocent and just demanded to be cared for. If one's parents couldn't show their child love and affection, the child deserved to be put with someone who would and she was happy that Henry had been. It confused her, though, how Henry would often speak of wanting to find and meet his birth mother. How could anyone want to meet a parent who treated them so horribly at such a young age?

But Henry seemed determined that one day he'd meet his birth mother, if only to just ask her why she did what he did. Violet tried her best not to vocalize her opinions on this. She didn't approve of it, but she tried to be supportive of him. She wanted him to do what would make him happy, and if what would make him happy was to confront his mother, then she would put her own personal feelings aside and let him and encourage him to do what he thought would be best, even if she was afraid that him doing this would put his happiness in jeopardy. But if doing that did make him unhappy, she would happily sit with him and comfort him and listen to him without any "I told you so's." But she couldn't help but fear that it would result in unhappiness. But she hoped since her son had been taken away, his mother would have straightened out her act and got her life in order. If only in case her son ever sought her out. He would be eighteen in a few weeks, so he could make his own decisions.

Today, Violet had questions for Henry. Just yesterday, when his mother had called him home for dinner, she had seen a man approaching his house, and she could hear a commotion. She could hear Mrs. Johnson yelling at Henry, telling him to go in the house. Violet had wanted to go and see what was going on, to make sure that Henry was alright, as hearing Mrs. Johnson telling Henry to go inside had cause Violet some worry. But her mother had told her that it was none of her business and that it was almost dinnertime for her family. And so as desperate as Violet was to know what was going on, she reluctantly stayed.

Violet saw Henry approach her and a smile lit up her face, her dark green eyes sparkling brightly. She was eager for answers, and hoped that everything was alright with him. She had been more worried about him than showed, and she was glad that he looked alright. But as he neared her, she could tell that he looked serious, more serious than he had been when she saw him yesterday, only a few minutes before the man showed up. She wondered what it was all about. It was all so confusing. Nothing like that ever happened here. It was all so strange and out of place. Perhaps it had something to do with his birth mother. That was the only thing that Violet could think of. It was the only thing that made sense to her. Henry did often stick out here. It wasn't too noticeable, but it was clear that he didn't always fit in, in the small, fairly conservative village. He had adjusted just fine and loved his family the same as they loved him, but Violet always knew that he wasn't content here. Of course, that was never anything that he hid from her. For as much as she loved living here, she knew Henry wasn't and whenever he needed to complain, she would always offer him an open ear for him to complain about whatever he wished. Ever since their relationship began, though, Violet always hoped that she might help make the village more of a home to him. She wanted him to be happy, and she hoped that he could make him happy, she wanted to make him happy. She always hoped and she always tried to make him see the positives and the beauty of their little town. She always thought she could do that. She still thought that she might be able to do that. She hoped that the man she dreamed of marrying when she was a little girl would end up being Henry, and she hoped that he felt the same way about her that she did about him. He had to, didn't he? They had been together for two years at this point. Surely it hadn't all been for nothing. A few more years and perhaps they would be married. Both were interested in continuing their education, and once that was over, the two would be married.

"Hey," Henry said, sitting next to Violet.

As he sat next to her at the wishing well, Violet greeted him as she always did: a chaste kiss on the cheek, something that, when in public, made Henry's face turn red as a tomato. He didn't mind kissing her and her kissing him in private, but he was a little embarrassed by it when it public.

But that was all the affection there was between them in public. Just a kiss on the cheek to say hello and goodbye, and hand holding. But there was plenty more kissing when they were in private. It was passionate kissing, but that was all it was.

Violet would never allow it to go past kissing. She had been raised by a deeply religious and conservative mother. Any form of sex was not allowed until after marriage. Henry never pressured her. He had commented that he didn't like the idea, but that was that. He never tried to take it any farther than she was comfortable with, and Violet appreciated that.

"Hey," said Violet. "I heard some commotion at your house last night. Everything alright?"

Violet could feel Henry tense up, and he left her in silence for a few moments, as if he was trying to collect his thoughts, trying to figure out where to start, trying to figure out just how to say. Violet grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently, trying to offer him some form of comfort. It was her silent way of saying that he could say anything and she would listen. Not judge, not offer unwarranted advice, not tell him what to, or give him her opinion, just listen. She would offer him an open ear, and speak only when he asked for her opinion, asked for advice, ask for her input, and when he did, he would happily give it. But she was worried for Henry, and wanted to know just what happened last night.

"A man came to my house yesterday," said Henry. "He told me that my mum wanted see me. My birth mum."

Violet didn't know exactly what to say, how to respond to that. Was that good news? Bad news? She knew that Henry wanted to meet his birth mother, but know that he had to opportunity, he didn't seem to know what it was he was going to do.

"And?" Violet asked. She didn't want to press him, but she wanted to make sure she was alright.

"He said they took me by force," said Henry. "She wasn't on opium. She wants to see me."

Violet didn't exactly know what she should think about it. She felt like she could be so much more supportive of him finding his mother knowing that his mother wasn't some drunkard who was taking opium instead of looking after her son.

"Are you going to go see her?" Violet asked.

"I'm eighteen in a few weeks, I can do whatever I want," said Henry.

Violet sighed. She knew that Henry was excited to turn eighteen, and he'd finally be able to get out of this little town. Violet understood, even if that wasn't what she wanted, but she would support him in that, but she wanted him to come back to her.

"That wasn't my question," said Violet. "Are you going to see her? You know I'll support whatever you do."

"I want to," Henry said, after a moment.

"Well, where is she?" Violet asked.

Violet was a little nervous to have that question answered. What if it was too far? Violet would have followed Henry to the ends of the earth, if only he asked. It wasn't too far for Violet. She would find a way to get to him. But what really worried her was how long he would be gone. She would wait for him, without question, but she was afraid of how long he would be gone. She would turn down any other man who approached her, wanting to enter a relationship, all for Henry.

"Small Heath, Birmingham," Henry told her.

Violet let out a small sigh of relief. That wasn't too far. She didn't know how far it was exactly, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours by train. It wasn't like the two of them would be days apart. There were far worse distances and compared to all that, a few hours was nothing. She didn't know much about Small Heath, or Birmingham in general. Her whole world extended to the little village she called home. But any distance was too far for her, seeing as he had been so close to her since he was adopted. But she knew how important it was to meet his mother, and she was sure that knowing that his mother wasn't the woman he thought she was. She couldn't blame him wanting to meet her. And so she grabbed his hand and squeezed it again, in the hopes of giving him some more comfort. She would support him, and she hoped that he would come back one day, because she would be waiting for him to.

"You should go, Henry," said Violet. "I know how important it is to you."

"Really?" Henry asked. He seemed almost shocked at her agreeing.

"Yes," said Violet, giving him a smile.

"Do you want to come with me?" Henry asked. "Get out of here."

Violet sighed. She couldn't. As much as she didn't want to leave Henry. For starters, she was only sixteen. Henry could get away with it. He would be eighteen in a few weeks, and so long as he wasn't caught, he could stay there until his birthday without being taken home. Violet, could not. If she was found out after Henry's birthday, she could be taken back, and her mother would be furious.

And there was the fact that Violet actually liked the village. She wanted Henry to like it to. Perhaps it wouldn't be back. Perhaps meeting his mother wouldn't be like he thought it was. Maybe he would come back to the village, come back to her. And they would be married like they had promised. And things would go back to the way they were.

"I can't," said Violet. "What would Mum and Dad think? They'd be furious, and they'd be worried. I can't leave them. But will you write me? Call me? I just want to know that you're all right."

Henry nodded. It was so subtle that Violet just barely noticed it. But it was there. And with that confirmation, Violet felt content knowing that he was going to be doing something that made him happy, and she was going to hear from him on how things were going. And hopefully they would be reunited sooner rather than later. Violet wanted Henry to be happy.

"When are you going, Henry?" Violet asked.

"Michael," he responded.

"What?" Violet asked, clearly confused.

"Michael," Henry repeated. "That's my name. My real name-Michael Gray."

"Michael Gray," Violet repeated. That would take some getting used to. "Well then, Michael Gray, when are you leaving."

"Tomorrow," he replied. "I told my mum, well… I told her I was going to be with you. Just tell her you were with me, and I won't go home. Alright?"

He stopped and Violet simply nodded. It was far too soon. She didn't want him to leave so quickly. But she couldn't imagine being lied to about her parents, about what they were like. And so she wouldn't try to get him to stay, as much as she wanted to. She just hoped that this whole thing wasn't pointless, that it was for the better, not worse.

Violet felt terrible at the prospect of lying to Mrs. Johnson. Mrs. Johnson was a good woman and she loved her sons dearly. Even if Henry -Michael she reminded herself- wasn't her son by birth, she treated him just as she would if he was her biological son. She would be devastated to hear that he had gone. Violet was also worried Mrs. Johnson wouldn't believe her. Violet rarely lied, and when she did, it was so easy to catch her she was hopeless at it.

"Wouldn't you rather wait until you're eighteen?" Violet asked. "Won't it be easier? Suppose you're found out. What then?"

"They won't find me," said Henry confidently. "You're the only person I've told, and you won't tell them, will you?"

Against her better judgment, Violet nodded. She loved Henry and she would lie if what she was doing was for his happiness. She just hoped that she was able to keep her secret. She didn't know how long she could keep the lie going, but she would try, for Michael's sake. It was so weird to think. Michael. That would take a lot of getting used to. But that was nothing. It was just a name. A rose by any other name and all that, Violet thought.

"Alright," said Violet. "But, please write me when you're all settled in. Okay?"

"I promise," said Michael.

...

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please leave a review! Chapter two will pick up between seasons two and three, and it will be out soon.**

 **Also, the faceclaim for Violet is Lottie Tolhurst. She's super pretty and underrated, and I hope she gets more work soon.**

 **-Isla (a.k.a. Death In A Pretty Pink Death)**


	2. Chapter 2

_1922_

A year and half had gone by since Violet had last seen Henry-Michael, rather, it still felt odd to call him that. He had always been Henry to her. For a while he kept his promise. He wrote to her every few weeks. She was always thrilled to receive a letter from him, but they were becoming less and less frequent, as well as shorter and shorter. The last one that she had received from him was barely a paragraph, as opposed to the letters Violet sent him, always making sure to spray it with a bit of the lavender-scented perfume and giving the envelope a kiss before dropping it in the mailbox. But the last paragraph that she received from him, was perhaps the best letter she had gotten from him yet: an invitation.

Six months after Michael left, her father died, and only three months ago, her mother followed, and since then, she had stayed with her elder sister, Lucy. Michael had written her a week after her mother's death, and the response Violet sent out was the one that contained news of her mother's death. Only a week ago had Violet heard from Michael, expressing his condolences and inviting her to Small Heath, to stay with him and his mother, Polly. Violet had been hesitant to accept. Her entire life was in this little village, her friends, her sister, her nephew. Everyone except Michael. She still loved him after all this time, and she missed him everyday. She had expressed this concern to her sister.

Lucy's response had surprised Violet. Lucy had told Violet that she ought to take Michael up on that offer. Lucy had decided that Violet had been too sheltered in the village and she should go out into the world, experience it, just a little. And Lucy had assured her that, if Violet was unhappy while she stayed in Small Heath, Lucy's door would be open for her little sister. It was a scary thought to Violet, to leave the place that she called home. In all honesty, she was terrified. The world was daunting to her. She wanted to stay in her village, where she was safe. But against her better judgment, she listened to her sister, and decided to accept Michael's invitation. She wrote back to him, and told him she would and by the time she would be coming. And Lucy had walked with Violet to the train station, hoping to provide her little sister with some comfort, and waved her sister off, not before kissing her forehead and giving one last reminder that she was welcome home at any time. And so, Violet set off for Small Heath, not knowing what she should expect.

As she sat on the train, with E. M. Forster's A Room With A View sitting open in her lap, she stared out the window, almost in a daze. She couldn't read her book now, she as too distracted and too nervous. Her mind was going a mile a minute, trying to think of what Small Heath could be like. Michael wasn't too descriptive on what it was like, he only told her that there was such a difference between the little village and Small Heath. Violet didn't know what to expect when she got off the train. She wouldn't even know which way to go. She had an address, but she didn't know which way or how far it was from the train station.

Michael had told her of his family, his mother and cousins. His mother, Polly, frightened her the most. Not only did Violet wish to impress her, as she was the girlfriend of his son and Violet wanted her approval, but in general, she sounded like she was a force to be reckoned with. She sounded different from Rosemary Johnson. Of course, Rosemary Johnson could be tough on her sons from time to time, Michael did have a mischievous streak. But Polly Gray sounded different. Tough in a different way. She sounded like someone Violet would move out of the way from when walking down the street. She sounded tough in a way that frightened Violet, but she also sounded like she tried hard to get to know her son.

The train ride to Small Heath took three and a half hours, but being so lost in her thoughts, those three and a half hours flew by, only feeling like twenty minutes, at most. As Rose exited the train, the first thing that she noticed was gray. It was so dreary and dark, so different from the blue skies and yellow sun and green grass in the village. Everything there was so vibrant, here, it was all muted. It would be enough to put anyone in a bad mood, to make anyone feel sad. But Violet wouldn't feel sad, she couldn't feel sad. She had missed Michael more than anything and she was thrilled that she was getting the chance to see him again. He told her that he worked for his cousins' business as an accountant. Violet didn't know exactly what sort of business it was, he rarely wrote about the business, and he barely gave her any details. She had tried to ask him more about his work, but in his letters, he always seemed to skirt about the question, never giving it to her straight. 'This and that' he would say. He would also say that there was some work with horses.

Violet was sure that having some of the work with horses would make him happy. She remembered his bay mare. Violet loved to ride too, but not so much as Michael. She would often go check up on his horse, and let him know that Michael would be coming home soon, even though Violet knew that was a lie. She had been completely wrong about Michael going to find his family. He was thrilled. He seemed to have settled right in, and even before her parents died, he had invited her to come visit him in Small Heath. Even in his shortest letters, he was trying to convince her to come and visit, but Violet had always refused.

Violet had even mentioned that to her parents and they refused to let her go. She had turned eighteen, her birthday just two months after Michael's, and Violet's eighteenth birthday had been three weeks before her mother died. In those three weeks, a conversation about Violet going to Small Heath hadn't come up. But when she was seventeen, her parents refused to let her visit, saying that Small Heath wasn't the place for a young lady. Even though they didn't say whether or not they thought Michael had got caught up in it, but they did know of the crime that plagues Small Heath, and that it would be inappropriate for her to go unsupervised. They thought it was too dangerous for her to go at all.

Violet had asked for Lucy's advice before she left, telling her about what their parents had told Violet. Lucy just told Violet to go directly to the address Michael gave her. That she should speak to know one but the cabby and wait for Michael. Lucy assured Violet that if he would invite her, that he ought to be willing to show her how things worked. 'Any decent person would, at least," Lucy had said. It wasn't that Lucy didn't like Michael, or the man she knew to be Henry Johnson. Far from it. Half of Violet's childhood, Michael would be at their house. It was just that ever since Michael had moved, Lucy worried for her little sister. Violet was a romantic, and she was naive. Anyone growing up so sheltered as she had would be. And Violet had been so sure that Michael would be back. Lucy had only encouraged Violet to go, if only to snap her out of this little fantasy Violet had, of marriage and a house and a white picket fence and loads of children and a dog or two.

Lucy liked Michael, but she loved Violet. She doubted anything would come of their relationship. They were both so young. She just wanted her little sister to be happy, and she didn't think that Violet would be happy with Michael. They both needed to move on, Violet especially. Violet had too many fantasies, her head was lost in the clouds and Lucy hoped that Violet would come down soon. She hoped this trip to Small Heath would wake her up, she knew Violet would be back with the month, sooner perhaps. Lucy didn't know any other way to get Violet to come back to reality.

Violet left the train station and hailed a cab. She gave him the address, and sat quietly in the back as they drove to the address that Michael had given her. All the ride, Violet could feel butterflies swarming around in her stomach. She was afraid her nerves would get the better of her. It was important to Violet that she impress everyone in Michael's family. Her parents had liked Michael, and they approved of their relationship, as did the Johnson's. She wanted to impress the Gray's, or rather just Mrs. Gray and the Shelby's. It was clear through his letters that he loved his mother very much and held his family in a high regard, and Violet wanted them to like her. She had always had a bit of a problem with people liking her. She was always so desperate for it. Especially when it came to people in authority. She had always tried to kiss up to the teacher's being called a teacher's pet. It bothered Violet that many of her classmates didn't like her, but she would rather have the teacher's approval than her classmates. It was even something that Michael had teased her about. Violet just had to be accepted, and she was desperate for the approval of Michael's family. The cab pulled to a stop in front of a nice looking house, and Violet stepped out of the cab. She turned and sweetly told him 'Thank you so much,' as she paid him and it was clear that such politeness was a rarity here. The cab drove away leaving Violet in front of the house alone. She took a deep breath, trying to get the courage she needed to go up and knock on the door, for the first time in a year and half almost, she was going to see Michael. She doubted he had changed that much in such a short amount of time. Could he? No, he couldn't. He would be the same that he was as when he left. Things would pick up right where they left off. There relationship would fall right back in place and they'd continue as things had been before. The only difference would be the setting, and Violet could live with that.

Violet had dressed smartly for her trip. She was wearing a royal blue dress with a sheer overlay, that blew around the skirts with the wind. There was a dropped waist that was cinched just slightly, but still loose, in keeping with the current fashion. She wore an ivory coat that she hadn't buttoned and she wore an ivory cloche hat. There was a wide collar lined in ivory lace.

Violet slowly walked up to the front door, taking her time as she did so. The butterflies were still swarming in her stomach, afraid of what would happen when she knocked on the door. She hoped that it was Michael who answered. After hearing of Polly Gray, Violet feared her, without having ever met her.

Violet reached the front door before she was ready. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Time seemed to move slowly, too slowly for Violet's liking. This felt like the three and a half hours that it was supposed to take for her to get to Small Heath from the village. The door opened up and Violet took another quick deep breath, getting much more nervous. She did so a little too quick and she ended up coughing a little.

"Christ, you look like you're about to fall down," said a woman.

Violet immediately looked up and a blush painted her pale cheeks. Violet hadn't realized that she had become pale in all of her nervousness. The woman was short, shorter than Violet by about an inch, but she seemed to have such a commanding presence that it felt like she was towering over Violet. She had dark hair and dark eyes, and Violet guessed that this woman was Michael's mother, Polly Gray. She was even more intimidating than Violet thought she would be. Violet stood still for a moment, her mouth hanging open. It took Violet a moment to realize, only doing so when she realized that the woman in front of her was looking at her expectantly. Violet shook her head slightly, and began speaking.

"Sorry, I'm fine," said Violet, becoming flustered easily. "You must Henry-Michael, Michael's mother. It's a pleasure to meet you, Polly- sorry, Mrs. Gray. Or is it Ms. Gray?" Violet took a deep breath, before speaking again. "I'm sorry. I'm Violet Palmer. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The woman, Polly, Violet suspected, chuckled slightly. Violet calmed down slightly, becoming less tense. Still, Violet was nervous. She had just made a rambling introduction and she made herself look like a fool, and she was sure she would continue to do so.

"So you're Michael's Violet," said Polly looking Violet up and down, trying to size her up. "You're just about what I expected."

"That's good, I hope," said Violet, nervously.

"It's good," Polly said, stepping out of the way. "Alright, in you get."

Violet entered the house and looked around. It was nice, and while it wasn't a mansion, it was still a larger than average home. She could see Michael living here and being happier than he was in the village. But then again, he might have felt more at home anywhere than the village.

"I hope that this isn't an inconvenience," said Violet.

"Not a bother at all," said Polly. "Michael talks about you all the time."

"Good things, I hope," Violet said.

"Good things," Polly confirmed. "Figured it's time I finally met you."

Violet felt much less tense, knowing that Polly wanted to meet her, and she was happy to know that Michael spoke of her. But she was still nervous. She wanted Michael's family to like her. She hadn't worried when it came to the Johnson's. She had known them since she was a little girl. To her, there was little doubt that they would approve. But with Polly, she wasn't so sure.

"Er, is Michael around?" Violet asked.

"He'll be here soon," said Polly. "In the meantime, I've put the kettle on. Let's have a chat, hm?"

…

 **Thank you so much for reading! I'd be so happy if you would leave a review, and chapter three will be here soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

Violet followed Polly into the kitchen. She was still nervous. She had been hoping that Michael would be around when she arrived, she had been afraid to meet Polly alone, but watching the way that Polly walked, with such confidence, Violet realized that this is what Polly had been wanting. Violet could understand why. What sort of mother wouldn't want to meet her son's girlfriend alone, to make sure that she approved of the girl and the relationship her son was in. Violet would certainly want to if she were ever put in such a position. It was a mother's job to protect her child.

The entered the kitchen, and Polly motioned for Violet to sit down. Violet did so and Polly got the teapot and poured Violet a cup of tea in the waiting cup. Violet reached for the cream, adding a little to her cup before adding a hefty amount of sugar as Polly poured some tea for herself. Polly put the teapot down and sat across from Violet. Violet gave her a nervous smile, not knowing exactly what she ought to do. Polly just seemed to be looking her over, sizing her up. Violet thought she ought to say something, but couldn't think of anything. What did one say to the mother of her boyfriend without him around? Especially since Violet's feelings on her were not very positive a year ago.

"Has Michael told you what he does?" Polly asked, breaking the silence before Violet had the chance to.

"He's an accountant," Violet said with a nod. "He works for his cousins."

"And you know what his cousins do?" Polly continued.

"They work with horses," said Violet. "Am I right?"

"You're right," was all Polly said, taking a sip of tea.

The way that Polly answered confused her. Violet couldn't quite place what it was about the answer that she didn't understand, the way Polly spoke, it was like there was something about the business Michael worked for that she wanted to keep secret, and that Michael wanted to keep secret. Violet couldn't understand why. From what she had gathered, being an accountant was a respectable job. She knew her parents would have been thrilled if they knew that she was in a relationship with an accountant. What about that was there to hide? She didn't know what sort of work with horses his cousins did, but she couldn't think of anything about horses that would be bad. She knew Michael was honest with her. He always had been. What reason was there that he should stop now? Violet could feel Polly's eyes on her and the silence was becoming a little too much for her. She felt this conversation becoming awkward and she tried to think of something. But, once again, Polly spoke up, breaking up the silence.

"What is it that your father did?" Polly asked.

"Oh, Daddy was a lawyer," said Violet with a slight smile.

"A lawyer?" Polly asked, with a little bit of a laugh.

"And a good one, too," said Violet, a little bit defensively.

Violet adored her father. She had always held him in a high regard. While her family had been close-knit, Lucy had always had a closer relationship with their mother, while Violet was very much a daddy's girl. In that little village she came from, there wasn't much crime. Some robberies here and there, but nothing so terrible that it became a scandal. The only time that there was a massive crime, the likes of which the town hadn't seen, at least while Violet was alive, was when a woman killed her abusive husband and was facing the noose. Her father had defended her, and it had ended up saving her life. She had left the town after that, but a few years after, the woman wrote her father, expressing her thanks and telling him that she had married a man whom she loved dearly, who was nothing like her first husband, and that she had two children with a third on the way. Violet had admired her father, and she admired him even more after that.

"I'm sure he was," said Polly. The laugh she had was gone, and she was looking at Violet with a bit of sympathy.

Violet smiled, and relaxed a bit. She still didn't know what was funny about her father being a lawyer or whatever it was about it that made Polly laugh, but she was glad that Polly wasn't laughing at her father, like she had initially thought. Polly was still looking at Violet up and down, still analyzing her, and it was beginning to make Violet feel uncomfortable.

"And your mother?" Polly asked, though it looked like she already knew the answer.

"A housewife," Violet replied.

That was just how things were done in the village. The man worked and the woman stayed at home. Violet knew that she was going to be a housewife since she was a little girl. It was never something that she minded. Despite holding her father in such a high regard, she also saw how hard her mother worked to keep house, and while it bothered her as a child, being scolded for messing up something her mother had just cleaned, as she grew older, she grew to respect how much work her mother put into making her house a home.

Of course, there were women who worked in the village, but they were either young women who would leave when they married, and the others were old maids. Had it not been for Violet getting the invitation from Michael, she would have gotten a job sooner or later. She would have hoped to work in one of the dress shops in the village. She loved to sew and she admired the work in many of the stores there. Her mother had taught Violet and Lucy to sew when the two of them were young, thinking that it was something that every woman should know. Lucy only had the patience to learn the basics, how to fit a hand-me-down and how to patch up a hole. Violet, on the other hand, pursued it more than just that, and had been learning how to sew frocks. She had even made a few of her own, and when she was a child, she would sew clothes for her dolls.

Polly just nodded at Violet's response to her question. Violet wondered why Polly even needed to ask that question. The only working women were young women and old maids, with the exception of war widows. That's what women did, wasn't it? They married and they stayed at home and they looked after the children and they kept house and they cooked.

At least, that was the only life that Violet had known. She had always assumed that it was the same everywhere. That the world was as safe and as peaceful as the little world that she had known. She wasn't so stupid and naive as to think that bad people didn't exist. She thought that Polly Gray was one of them from what she had heard about her. But now that she was meeting her, she certainly didn't think that anymore.

She was well aware that there were bad and evil people in the world, she had always just assumed that it was some kind of rarity. She hadn't given it much of a second thought, considering she was always kept safe in that village and she had always been so happy that there was never any sort of desire in her to leave. Violet just assumed that for the most part, women were housewives, with a few exceptions here and there.

"Yes, you're just what I imagined," Polly said, confirming her earlier statement.

Violet smiled brightly, pleased to know that. Hearing that Michael had said good things about her, and that she was just how Polly had imagined her was a weight lifted off Violet's chest. She had been so nervous about this whole thing. Before getting on that train, she had asked her sister at least a dozen times if she looked presentable enough to meet Michael's mother. She was glad, tough, to know that Polly seemed to like her. She had been beside herself with worry about impressing her, so desperate to be liked by the woman who sounded so frightening by the way Michael had described her in his letters.

"Well, I'm glad you approve," said Violet with a smile. "You do approve, right?"

"Dear, you're a grown woman," said Polly. "And Michael is a grown man. You don't need approval from anyone."

Violet was shocked by Polly's statement. She had always thought a parents approval was necessary for a relationship to continue. She always thought a man asked for a woman's parents blessing before taking her out on a date, and before proposing to her. She always thought that if parents didn't approve, no relationship would be able to continue. Otherwise, the relationship would end or the couple would run off and elope, like in the romantic novels Violet was always so fond of. Violet was pleased that it seemed Polly had liked her, but she had hoped for some sort of conformation. She had never heard of any sort of parent would say that.

"What?" Violet asked, dumbfounded. "Is, is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I would think that's a good thing," said Polly. "You're an adult aren't you? You can make your own decisions, and so can Michael. If you're asking if I like you, yes. You're harmless."

"Oh," said Violet, not exactly knowing what to say. "Thank you, I think."

"That's a good thing, dear," said Polly, with a small smile.

"Oh," Violet said again, still finding herself nervous, despite having Polly's approval, or whatever it was that she wanted to call it. "Thank you."

"But, if you hurt my so, I won't hesitate to put a bullet in you," Polly said, her voice oddly pleasant for such a statement.

"O-of course," said Violet, her eyes wide.

Violet certainly hadn't been expecting that. She had never heard of a woman who used a gun in such a way. Then again, her father had made that threat to Michael when they first began their relationship. Her mother had admonished him for such a threat, though Michael didn't seem fazed. Violet had no idea how to use a gun. Her father had one that he kept in his nightstand, but he never had the need to use it. He only had it there as a precaution, and after his death, her mother had sold it, finding no need for her to have it around, as she didn't know how to use it, and she was rather afraid to learn.

"Don't worry," said Polly. "You're harmless. That's good. Good for him."

"Thank you," said Violet sincerely. "Michael speaks so highly of you. He holds you in such high regard."

"Oh, does he?" Polly asked, taking a sip of her tea, and Violet nodded, though it sounded much like a rhetorical question.

Their conversation was cut short as the sound of the door opening could be heard. Violet's head whipped towards it, but she stayed sitting. It had to be Michael, considering that, as far as Violet knew, he and Polly were the only two that lived here. She could hardly contain the smile on her face. She truly had missed him and she was more than excited to see him again. She had always been so happy that when she received a letter, but that excitement was ten-fold, knowing that she would see him again. Butterflies swirled around in her stomach, feeling both excited and nervous at the same time.

"Mum?"

It was a voice Violet would recognize anywhere, and a voice she had missed dearly. The smile she wore refused to leave her face. She couldn't believe that she was finally going to see him again. It wasn't how she had envisioned it. She had always thought that he would come back and she would greet him at the train station. She would run into his arms and he would pick her up and spin her around, like all those couples she had read about. But that didn't matter to her know. What mattered to her now was that she and Michael would finally be reunited after spending more than a year apart.

"In the kitchen," Polly called back, before turning to Violet and giving her a small smile.

The seconds that it took for Michael to walk from the living to the kitchen felt like hours to Violet. She couldn't wait to see him again. She could feel those butterflies in her stomach flying around faster and faster as she waited for him. She had thought about reuniting with him every day since the day he left and the moment she had been desperately waiting for was finally here. As Michael entered the kitchen, Violet practically jumped out of the chair and ran to him, wrapping her arms around him, like she had been waiting to do since she said goodbye to him on the day he left. She let out a happy cry of:

"Michael!"

...

Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Violet gave Michael the greeting that she always did: a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, I've missed you!" Violet said excitedly.

Violet had missed this. She had dreamed of this moment since the day he left and she couldn't believe that it was finally here. She felt Michael wrap her hands around her as well. The floor disappeared from under her as Michael lifted her. Violet kissed his cheek once more and let out a giggle. Michael set her down and pulled away from her. He was smiling, but it was nowhere near the elated beaming smile that Violet had. Violet did notice that he lacked the usual look of discomfort he usually had when she used to greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

Violet pulled away and looked Michael over. While his face looked exactly the same as it was when he had left. But there was also something about him that looked different, something that Violet couldn't exactly place. He looked older despite nothing about his face really changing, more mature. Perhaps it was because he was nineteen now. Violet looked at the dark blue suit he wore. It looked smart, and she couldn't imagine her Henry in something like that. By she liked it. She thought he looked even more handsome wearing something like that. It suited him well, in Violet's opinion.

"Well, I'll leave you two," Polly said.

"It was lovely meeting you, Ms. Gray!" said Violet with an eager voice, whipping her head around and hitting Michael with her red ringlets.

"Lovely to meet you, too, dear," said Polly standing and leaving the kitchen.

As she was leaving, she gave Michael a look, one that Violet didn't know what she meant by that, but she didn't pay much mind to it, she didn't want to focus on that right now. She was more than happy as she had Polly's confirmation that she had made a good impression on her, and she was even happier that her and Michael were reunited. She was just too excited to talk to Michael after so long, after letters and letters between them, that got shorter and far between, and she hadn't heard his voice in so long. Violet couldn't wipe the bright smile off of her face. She had tried to contain her excitement, but now that she and Michael were together again, there was little to no chance of that.

"Would you like to sit," Michael asked, awkwardly, gesturing to the table.

Violet nodded and she went to sit, a little to eagerly. She couldn't wait to catch up with him. There wasn't much for her to tell him. She always sent him pages upon pages of letters. She never left out anything, and even if it was something so little it probably didn't even need to be said. She wrote him all the news on everyone they knew when they were growing up, probably in more excessive detail than was needed. But Violet had received so little information as time went on. She knew about his family, she knew about his work and she knew plenty about what he was doing for the first six months or so. It had become a stark contrast to Violet, whose letters seemed to get longer and longer. Her longest one totaled thirteen pages, and it had made a considerably thick envelope when all the pages were folded.

Michael's letters, on the other hand, had started out with two pages, written on both the back and front. There was only one letter like that. He had told her about his family, his mother and his cousins, and that he soon found a job as chief accountant for his cousins business. That first letter came a few weeks after he left, and since then, his letters were fewer and far between, and since that happened Violet had become increasingly worried about him, worries which she kept to herself.

But now that she had finally seen Michael after so long, any worries she might have had seemed to couldn't have been more happy to that the two of them were back together. There had been plenty of girls in the village telling her that one day, Michael's letters would stop altogether and that he would find someone knew. They had told her that she ought to write him and break it off with him, and to save herself the heartbreak. That it would be better if she forgot about him and found someone else.

But Violet didn't listen.

Violet refused to listen.

Violet would not believe it.

And she had proved them right. Michael had told her to come visit him in Small Heath, and she had every intention to pick up where they left off.

Violet was sure that Michael thought the same way about their relationship. There couldn't be any other reason for him inviting her here in Violet's mind. Perhaps, also as a comfort for the loss of her parents, but if wanted to break it off with her, he simply could have written to her, or called her.

No, the two of them would pick up exactly where they had left off, and continue with the plans they had set. They'd marry, he would work, she would stay at home and in a few years, they would have children of their own.

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother," Michael began, almost awkwardly, like he didn't exactly know where their conversation ought to begin.

"Thank you," said Violet. "But I want to hear everything about what's been going on with you. You're letters have become so scarce."

"Sorry about that," said Michael. "Things have been busy."

"Well, that's alright," said Violet. "I understand. But, I'm here now and I want to know everything. We have time, don't we?"

"Yeah," said Michael. He seemed hesitant. "Yeah, we do."

"What's wrong?" Violet asked, a little concerned.

"Nothing, it's just, you haven't changed a bit," said Michael.

"That's a good thing, I hope," said Violet with a small smile.

"It is," said Michael. "It's a good thing."

"Good," said Violet. "And what about you? Have you changed?"

"Can't you tell?" Michael asked with a small smirk.

"No," Violet laughed. "But you've always been a hard one to read."

"Or you're just shit at reading people," Michael chuckled.

Violet was taken aback slightly. She wasn't offended by what he said, it was obvious that he was just teasing her. It was simply the swearing that caught her off guard. She had never really known men to swear, and she knew of women swearing even less. The only time she had really heard swearing was when people were angry. She had never heard it so casually like Michael had done. She had never heard him do that before. She had once heard her father say "Gentlemen never swear in the company of ladies." Michael chuckled and took out a cigarette, putting it in his mouth and lighting it. He offered one to Violet, but Violet shook her head, once again taken aback. She had never known Michael to smoke.

"Since when do you smoke?" Violet asked.

"'Bout a year now, I guess," said Michael.

"Oh," was all Violet said, not really certain on how to respond to that. Smoking was just never something that she had ever pictured Michael doing.

"Do you disapprove?" Michael asked, smirking.

"No," said Violet. "Daddy smoked, remember? I just never saw you as the smoking type."

"I drink now, too," Michael said, jokingly trying to act impressive.

"How naughty you are now," said Violet laughingly.

"I'm glad you noticed," Michael said, winking, making Violet giggle.

"Tell me about your job," Violet said. "I want to know everything! You must be happy, working with horses all the time."

"I'm an accountant," said Michael. "I don't exactly work with horses. I'm stuck in an office all day."

"Still, don't you see horses very often?" Violet asked.

"Yeah, I guess I do," said Michael. "But it's not like I'm riding and feeding and taking care of them all the time."

"But I still want to know about your job," said Violet. "Are you happy with it."

"Yeah, I am," said Michael.

"Good," said Violet. "I'm glad to hear it."

"And are you happy?" Michael asked. "Despite everything that's happened?"

"I'm happy enough, I guess," said Violet. "I miss home already. I've only been gone a few hours. Isn't that funny?"

"Yeah," said Michael, breathing out a laugh. Violet guessed that he found it funny because he had never been as attached to that little place as she had been.

"Lucy's pregnant again," said Violet. "Well, she thinks she is. It's a little too soon to tell I think."

"Good for her," said Michael. He didn't sound too thrilled. Then again, him and Lucy had never really gotten along.

"And Joseph's doing well," Violet continued. "He's getting bigger. Can't quite believe how much he's grown, and how fast."

Violet sighed and decided to change the subject.

"But I want to hear about your family," said Violet. "Are they really very nice?"

"I guess," said Michael with a shrug. "Once you get to know them. And even then, it depends."

"It depends?" Violet asked, laughing. "Depends on what?"

"Who you are," said Michael. "But I wouldn't worry. They should like you."

"Why do you think that?" Violet asked.

"Well, my mum seems to like you," said Michael. "That should be enough for them."

Violet couldn't help but giggle.

"Your mum seems nice," said Violet. "A little terrifying, but nice.

"She does have that effect on people," Michael laughed.

"Well, I can't wait to meet the rest of them," said Violet.

"Trust me, you can't handle them," said Michael, chuckling.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Violet asked. "Sounded like you admired them, from your letters."

"I do," Michael said. "It's just they might a little too much for you."

"What's that supposed to mean, Henry Johnson?" Violet asked, before realizing what she said.

She used to pretend to be offended with him sometimes, and when she did, she spoke to him using his full name. It was always a joke, though. This was the first time doing it in a long time and it was the first time since she had learned his real name, and she had only said it out of force of habit. She knew and he knew that it was a joke that she was offended, but she was worried that she might have actually offended him, and that was the last thing that she wanted to do. Upon realizing that, her eyes widened and her cheeks became a pale pink, a little embarrassed by that. Her mouth opened for just a second but nothing came out. After a moment, she spoke again, her words coming out rather rushed.

"I am so sorry," said Violet hastily. "I meant, 'What do you mean by that, Michael Gray?'"

"Don't worry about it," said Michael. "It's been a change for me."

"I can imagine," said Violet.

"Do you really want to meet them?" Michael asked, going back to the original question.

"Of course I do!" Violet said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Like I said," said Michael. "You might no be able to handle them."

"You still haven't told me what that means," Violet pointed out.

"It's just, they can be a little much," said Michael. "They're just something that you need to be eased into. You met my mum, I think that's enough for today."

"Oh, but I want to meet them," said Violet.

"Fine," said Michael. "We can go to the Garrison tonight if you'd like."

"I'd love to!" said Violet. "What's the Garrison?"

"It's a pub," Michael said laughing. "Have you ever been in a pub?"

"No," Violet admitted. "But I can handle it."

Michael laughed, and if she was being honest, she could see why. There was a pub in the village, but it was a fairly calm one. While that had been the only one that Violet had really ever seen. It was a fairly calm place, a few drunkards here and there. But for the mos part, the men there were able to handle their alcohol. She had never been inside. A part of it was because she hadn't had a drink in her life. Not even on her eighteenth birthday like most people did. Another part was because women were not allowed in pubs without the company of a man. And stepping out with a man who wasn't Michael felt wrong. She had been faithful to him ever since he left. But she was sure that being in a pub wouldn't be so bad. Especially being with Michael.

"If you insist," said Michael, shaking his head slightly.

"I do," said Violet.

"All right, then," said Michael. "Are you sure you want to go tonight, though? You've only just got here. You sure you don't want to rest?"

"I'll be fine," said Violet. "I'm excited. I want to meet them."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," said Michael.

…

 **A/N: I was hoping to have this done much sooner, but better late than never. I hope you enjoyed and please leave a review! I'd love to know what you think.**


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